Thursday, October 31, 2019
Saturday, October 12, 2019
Descending Into The Madness
“Gotham’s lost its way. What kind of coward would do
something that cold blooded? Someone who hides behind a mask.” ~ Thomas Wayne
“I’m waiting for the punchline.” ~ Murray Franklin
“For my whole life, I didn’t know if I really existed. But I
do, and people are starting to notice.” ~ Arthur Fleck
A very different sort of comic book adaptation for the
cinema is out there now. Joker is a
standalone deeply psychological character study of a descent into madness. Or a
descent deeper into madness. In a Gotham City without a Batman, the film tells
the story of a mentally ill nobody who becomes somebody… by giving himself completely
over to his own madness. In a tour de force performance by Joaquim Phoenix, we
see the character in a different light. Not a sympathetic one, but a compelling
one, thanks to the actor.
Set in Gotham City in 1981, the film tells the story of
Arthur Fleck (Phoenix), who lives with his mother Penny (Frances Conroy).
Gotham is a city filled with crime, unemployment, decay, and despair. Thomas
Wayne (Brett Cullen) is running for mayor, not as sympathetic as previous
portrayals, as he’s dismissive of the problems those in poverty face. Arthur is
mentally ill, given to laughter at the wrong times, getting help from a social
worker, but mired in mediocrity as a party clown. There’s a hint of possibility
with a neighbor, Sophie (Zazee Beetz), but events turn against Arthur, with
violence and a deepening madness accelerating out of control.
The film takes part of its inspiration from back story in an
acclaimed Batman tale, The Killing Joke,
with the motif of a failed standup comedian in the background of the Joker.
Director Todd Phillips co-wrote the story and screenplay with Scott Silver, and
their story is a tightly wound character study that’s set in a Gotham familiar
to us- the relentless growing darkness and misery, the tensions in the
community, the rising crime. It’s a surprise given the background of Phillips,
whose work has mostly been in comedy like The
Hangover trilogy. Because the story is dark and gets under your skin in a
way that you wouldn’t expect out of his CV. Silver is a bit of a different
story, having had directed or written films that are character studies, such as
The Fighter or The Finest Hours.
The challenge of the film is in telling a story in which
there’s not really someone to be sympathetic about, which the screenplay
succeeds in doing. Arthur Fleck is not sympathetic, even if he’s clearly
suffering from mental illness. A given decision here, a bad moment there, leads
him off into a deeper version of that illness; one wonders if it might have
been preventable in other circumstances. But the character’s not sympathetic.
Nor for that matter is Robert De Niro as Murray Franklin, a talk show host who’s
more concerned with himself than anything else. The take on Thomas Wayne, less philanthropic
than we might be used to given previous versions in cinema and comics, isn’t
sympathetic. There’s a ruthless, callous disregard for others as the story
unfolds. We might feel some measure of sympathy for Sophie, and for the young
Bruce Wayne, though we know what the boy will become years down the road.
The story concerns itself with mental illness, the pitfalls
of fame, class struggles, the misery of poverty, and the madness of a mob
mentality. It weaves these themes throughout in a way that is quite different
from your standard comic book movie, focusing deeply on character instead of
spectacle. That reflects in the directing style. Phillips does stage action in
the film, and does so well, but the film doesn’t need to rely on special
effects and doesn’t. Instead it seems to take a lot of its influence from
late-70s dark character studies (the inclusion of Robert De Niro speaks to
that, as you can see a lot of parallels to his film Taxi Driver with its protagonist descending into madness, as well
as his The King Of Comedy, which
mines some of the same material). Phillips handles the tone in the right way,
giving us a film that makes us feel like silent witnesses into madness. It’s
brutally effective.
Zazie Beetz made an impression as Domino in Deadpool 2. Here she’s in another comic
book adaptation, but one as an original character. She has to play Sophie in
more than one way, thanks to how the story unfolds, responding to Arthur in different
ways as the story goes along. She’s someone to be sympathetic about, generally
likable, and initially there’s an easy chemistry between her character and
Arthur that winds up going in a completely different direction.
Frances Conroy plays Arthur’s mother Penny. It’s a difficult
role; the character is both physically and mentally ill, so Arthur gets his
madness from somewhere. She’s delusional, harsh in her own way, and not
sympathetic, but the actress makes the most of that madness, giving a
compelling performance. We’re left to wonder for ourselves how much of her
delusions might be just that, and how much of it might be a glimpse of the
truth.
Brett Cullen is one of those character actors you’ve seen on
numerous occasions in film and television. He’s actually appeared in the world
of the Dark Knight before, playing a congressman in The Dark Knight Rises. Here his take on Thomas Wayne is a
formidable one, and less sympathetic than we’re used to from the character. He’s
a billionaire who has no regard for the disenfranchised, a man seeking power
for himself as a mayor, but with no concern for the citizens who don’t have
much of a voice. There’s a callous disregard the character has for those outside
his orbit, and a protectiveness of his own legacy. It might not be a
sympathetic take, but Cullen’s Thomas Wayne is one you remember.
Robert De Niro has spent the last few years in what we could
call a hit and miss trajectory in his career. One film might be a compelling
one, but another will be a disaster- mostly comedies, which it’s obvious he’s
only doing for the paycheck. Here he gets a good part, and he reminds us just
how good an actor he is. Murray is unsympathetic, a talk show host more
concerned with his own reputation and celebrity and not really paying much
regard to the consequences of his actions. He mocks a video performance of a
disastrous standup routine by Arthur, never thinking it might come back to
haunt him. It’s a fascinating job by the actor, evoking other films from his
past.
One could say Joaquin Phoenix was suited for this role,
given that he’s had the odd occasion in the past where he seemed, well… not
entirely there. Phoenix did not want to take roles in the Marvel cinematic
universe, because that would require multiple appearances in sequels. But he
had been interested in a character study about a villain. This take on the
Joker does stand on its own- this is not the Jared Leto Joker we’ve seen in Suicide Squad, or the one from the Nolan
trilogy. In fact, it’s left ambiguous as to if he’s even the Joker at all, or
inspiration for someone who’ll become the Joker. His performance is a marvel: a
descent into utter madness by a man already halfway there, a mediocrity in life
who finds his purpose in a life of violence and mayhem. The character isn’t
sympathetic, but Phoenix makes him utterly compelling to watch throughout the
film as he brings out the chaos and malevolence of a mind gone terribly wrong.
Joker turns out to
be a dark, relentless film that gives us a protagonist we can’t root for but
can’t look away from. In its depiction of the downfall of a man and the
downfall of a city, it turns out to be an unsettling film that gets under your
skin, leaves you unnerved, and leaves you hoping for a Dark Knight.